


Unexpected Revelations (AKA 'How They Fuck Up the First Time')

by reellifejaneway



Series: The Accidental OTP: A Saints Row AU [2]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Masturbation, Shameless Smut, Smut, The Accidental OTP, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 16:04:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6711799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reellifejaneway/pseuds/reellifejaneway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>M!Morgan Prescott accidentally walks in on Cassandra Davenport pleasuring herself, and much to his disbelief, hears her murmur his name. Naturally, he freaks out and flees the scene. She doesn't even like him.... or at least that's what he thought. Until now. But now that the truth (among other things) is exposed, he can’t keep away anymore. So he decides to address her - and his thoughts - face-to-face. What happens next is entirely his own fault.</p><p>Shameless Accidental OTP smut (because we can't help ourselves). Cassandra Davenport belongs to knightcommanderalenko. M!Morgan Prescott belongs to me (reellifejaneway). The world of Saints Row and Steelport belongs to Volition Inc. and Deep Silver. I'm just a fangirl who can't let go...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Revelations (AKA 'How They Fuck Up the First Time')

**Author's Note:**

  * For [knightcommanderalenko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightcommanderalenko/gifts).



> Confused much? So were we. But if you'd like some context, this AU happened when two crazy friends began playing co-op.... and then somehow decided that our characters were perfect for a new ship. Do we regret a thing? Well... Sometimes. But not really. (We are more than aware of our collective fuck-up.)

He still didn’t understand why he was standing there.

And not just at this very moment, clutching a bunch of red roses in hand and waiting for the penthouse elevator to ping.

No, he was also was thinking — perhaps far too hard — about the night before. In so many, _many_ senses.

Why _had_ he been standing there again?

Morgan didn’t even remember. All he knew was that one moment he had been striding into Cassandra Davenport’s unlocked apartment, ready to inform her of some critically important Saints’ news, and the next second he had come to a dead stop upon the threshold.

No level of preparedness could have readied him for what he’d heard. Or what he had seen.

Cass’ bedroom door was open, and unbeknownst to her, Morgan Prescott had paused just close enough too the doorway that he could see her bed. And hear the moans coming from it. His mouth fell open when he saw a pair of glorious, pale legs writhing upon the bedspread. Toes curling, knees shifting and spreading in stolen, secret pleasure.

A shiver rushed down his spine, heat flooding his body. And against every polite instinct he possessed, Morgan took a step _towards_ the room.

Her hips came into view, her hands working feverishly between her legs and spurring more cries of ecstasy. Deliciously supple skin framed swollen breasts, powerful shoulders, and an upturned chin that Morgan had already memorised the shape of weeks before. Cass’ beauty was firmly ingrained in his memory, and made him weak at the knees.

But this?

This was _torture_.

His body reacted instantly, his pants growing excruciatingly tight. Morgan stumbled and caught himself against the door frame when Cass arched into her own touch. Her voice escalated and he fought to keep from responding with a whimper of his own.

 _God_ was he doomed. He had imagined her countless times before; stroked himself to thoughts of her arching beneath him, over him, her long red hair curling down to her naked waist. Morgan had dreamed of grasping her thighs hard and taking her nearly every night since he’d met her. Sometimes unbidden in his dreams, other times as a response to her maddening teases.

At that moment, Morgan realised that his dreams would never compare to the real Cass Davenport. And she was destroying him without even knowing he was there.

Cass groaned louder, her head tilting back against her pillows, her body tensing as her orgasm began to take hold. And the _sounds_ she made…. Small gasps, muffled cries, desperate and _wild._

Morgan had never felt so damned electrified. Or so _guilty_.

Her eyes screwed shut, Cass had mewled and trembled under the weight of the oncoming bliss. And he had not been able to tear his own gaze away.

Until, suddenly, her body arched into her climax and Cass had gasped, “ _Morgan!_ _”_

For a moment he’d frozen, terrified that perhaps she’d realised he was there. Watching. _And memorising every second._

Then reality hit him. Cass was panting, chasing _more,_ still oblivious to his presence. And _fuck him_ if she wasn’t calling his name over and over. Morgan’s eyes widened and he pinched himself quickly. Surely this had to be a dream.

But he didn’t wake up.

Instead, Cass only moaned his name louder. This time she had turned and was grinding against her bed, gasping, “oh _fuck_ yes, Morgan, _yes._ ”

That time, he couldn’t stop himself from groaning.

But before Cass could even react to his mistake, he had turned and fled the room. Morgan had stumbled every step from that damned bedroom to the elevator, crumbling against the wall and gasping for air throughout the dizzying ride down to the lobby. Slumping in his car, his hand had sought to ease the ache in his jeans as best it could, his other palm shakily stifling the cries that tumbled from his lips.

Cries that he could only dream of making against Cass’ bared throat, hearing her echo his satisfaction. But instead of seizing the chance to make what was apparently both of their fantasies a reality, Morgan had bolted.

Fuck it all, he was pathetic.

Morgan had never experienced a more guilt-ridden moment in his life than that car ride home. His skin was still far too tight and the air was laced with the musky scent of his self-reproach.

So it had taken some serious brass balls to turn up here again — or perhaps a very tall glass of insanity, he couldn’t tell — but this time at least he was in a suit and came bearing a floral peace offering. One that he prayed she’d take as the romantic gesture of apology he intended it to be.

Morgan psyched himself up to step inside the penthouse lift when the doors slid open. And paused to straighten his tie as it jerked into motion.

He was willingly offering himself up to his own damnation, sacrificing the last of his dignity for just one chance with Cass. As it was Morgan could feel the flames licking at his neck, sending hellish waves of heat down his skin and making him tremble. On one hand, this desire could torture him for the rest of his life. On the other… No, it would _still_ undo him. Probably for as long as he breathed.

Stepping off the lift, Morgan let out a pained sigh. _Fuck_ , when did his tie become so tight?

At the last second he whipped it off and stuffed it in his pocket, undoing the uppermost button of his white collared shirt with his free hand. Then, bracing himself, he hit the doorbell and waited for Cass to answer.

The next few seconds passed in an agonising blur of regret and the deafening echoes of his own heartbeat in his ears.

Morgan started a little when the lock engaged, his shoulders drawing back out of years of professional business presentation. _Stand tall, speak with confidence, and smile._

Not that he really needed to. Seeing Cass’ face through the gap in the doorway was enough to make him grin like a fool.

“Morgan?” She blinked and assessed him up and down before her gaze settled on the flowers in his hand. Her hair was delightfully mussed, as if she’d only just tumbled out of bed. Even though he couldn’t see all of her, the black lace at her neck hinted that she was clad in a light robe. She might have been tired — Morgan couldn’t quite make it out — but her gaze brightened at the sight of the bouquet. “You… You brought me roses?”

Somehow he swallowed back his nervousness in favour of a charming grin. “I saw these earlier and just couldn’t help but think of you.”

Cass opened the door fully and Morgan’s jaw slackened.

His suspicions had been correct. She was indeed wearing a robe, and it was a luxuriously cut, black silk garment too. The way the fabric draped over her curves could only be likened to the caress of water, rippling and brushing against her pale skin. It was hastily tied closed and _barely_ modest. Morgan had to keep from losing his composure when he realised that he could very nearly make out almost every line of her sensual body.

He rapidly pulled himself back together to gently query, “Did I disturb you…?”

“No! Not at all.” The instantaneous response made his brows arch in amusement. “That is,” Cass amended hurriedly, “I was already awake. I just, well.” She gestured at her garment. “I don’t tend to dress when I know I’m going to be at home all day.”

‘Dressing’, after all, was a questionable choice of verb on Cass’ part. Her garment was intriguing, magnetising. Combine that with Cass’ proximity — was it just him or was the radiating heat from her skin making him flush redder? — And the scent of her perfume… _Fuck_. Morgan was finding it just a little harder to breathe.

“Morgan?”

He jumped when he realised she was holding the door open. For him. _To walk through_. “Oh! Thanks.”

Well, if he hadn’t felt like a _complete_ ass before, he definitely did now.

Cass’ apartment was spacious, airy. Where most women with her status would put their wealth on display, Cass on the other hand proved to have a subtle, comfortable taste in decor. The sofa was the most ostentatious piece of furniture he could see. And since it was pure deep-seat leather, Morgan could hardly blame her for the compromise. It was a startling contrast to his own background. The world of riches that he recalled from his youth was vastly different — and it only reinforced to him just how refreshingly perfect Cassandra Davenport truly was in his eyes.

“Would you like some coffee?” She had turned to walk to the kitchen, and he trailed behind her, declining politely.

No, he had come for a reason. Even if that tantalising view of her ass wasn’t helping him formulate a coherent sentence.

“I was, uh…” Morgan watched as she arranged the roses in a crystal vase, “I was wondering if you had any plans for the day.”

“Plans?” Cass arched a brow at him. “Not really. Maybe a movie, coffee. A book wouldn’t hurt. What are you getting at?”

“Would you like company?”

She laughed then, setting the vase down to fold her arms. Man was he screwed; Morgan realised he was even envying the kitchen bench as she leaned her hip against it.

“Morgan Prescott, you’re going to have to be more specific if you want an answer from me.”

He tore his gaze away from the fabric at her cleavage and sighed. Damn why did words never come easy? Right now he wanted nothing more than to draw her against his aching body and show her just how much she mattered to him, but even knowing that she’d been gasping his name the night before wasn’t enough to make that okay in his mind. He had to _be sure_ that she wanted him. He wanted Cass to ask, to give him permission somehow. Morgan had never been the type to take advantage, and he wasn’t about to start now.

This crazy dance of theirs — back and forth with doubt and teasing — simply had to stop. See, he knew only too well how it felt to hurt. And this time… This time he wanted things to go _right._

 _Just tell me, Cass. Tell me that what I heard last night wasn_ _’t just a one-off fantasy._ He sighed deeply and looked her square in the eye. _Tell me that you need me as much as I need you_. “Cass, I want you.”

“What?” Her eyes widened. “Morgan—”

“You heard me. I want _you._ _”_ His stomach twisted at Cass’ reaction, stepping toward her as she instinctively backed away. “I can’t keep playing, letting you think that I don’t care about you. Because I do. And I’m sure you’ve got your fair share of suitors who would happily fawn at your feet, so the last thing I wanted to do was add to their number and confuse you. But I can’t keep hiding how I feel about you.”

Cass had frozen in place but Morgan hardly paused, amazed at how rapidly the words had tumbled out once he’d begun.

“Cassandra Davenport, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the very first moment we met. And if you’ll let me…”

The sudden press of her finger against his lips made Morgan falter.

_Be silent._

He shivered as Cass matched his motion with a step of her own, right into his space. Her hands were so tender as they crept up to the back of his neck. The shiver that racked his body was irrepressible; she was staring directly into his eyes with a gaze that sung of awe and need, her fingertips dancing between strands of his hair and drawing him closer… so much closer…

The gap between them suddenly closed and the world around Morgan disappeared. Clearly something he had said had spurred Cass into action because now her lips angled over his with a heat and intensity that made his head spin. All he knew was her soft body against him, the tantalising scent of her hair, the brush of silk against his palms as he pulled her closer.

_Damn._

Cass broke free a moment later, leaving him reeling. But from the flush on her cheeks and the delightful red swell to her parted lips, Morgan guessed she had been wanting to do that for just as long as he had.

“Fuck me,” she whispered, the curse leaving her mouth in a way that sounded _far_ more sensual than profane.

Morgan fought to steady his breathing. “Yeah, that was…”

“No.” She grabbed his cheeks firmly with her hands, blazing eyes only an inch away from his. “I meant _fuck. Me._ ”

And with that Cass claimed his mouth a second time.

Morgan sank into the kiss with a weak moan. _Ohgod_ was he screwed now. _Or about to be._ Hopefully, Morgan prayed silently, many, _many_ times.

He wasn’t sure whether to lament his impending destruction or cry for joy.

And did she _ever_ know how to destroy him. Cass’ passion reduced him to a whimpering mess, his hands desperately grasping at her robe just to hold on. She was a force of nature with a gun in her hands. And now she was bending him to her power without a single weapon. No, Morgan realised, now he was her weapon. And he would happily carry out her every command if it meant she would never stop touching him.

Cass pressed her palms to his chest, sliding them beneath his suit jacket until it was halfway down his arms. Morgan let it fall away without breaking their kiss. No, this felt too good, too perfect. She pressed hard against the planes of his body and _god_ even through the fabric, he could feel every smooth inch of her breasts as they rose and fell with her frantic breaths.

Suddenly Morgan jolted, the harsh grate of a wall at his back jarring him to reality. Cass’ hands were toying with his buttons. Morgan’s eyes rolled back in his head when she lowered her beautiful, full mouth to his throat, exploring his skin as she bared it. She clearly needed him more urgently than she’d let on because _god_ his shirt was hanging loose from his shoulders. Cool air made his skin tingle in the wake of her attentions, but only for a moment.

Now it was his turn.

He grasped her waist and brought her lips crashing back into his. Cass let out a needy moan in response to his assertion and it only made him hungrier. Nipping lightly at her lower lip, he allowed her a moment to writhe in his embrace, whimpering for more, before languorously exploring her beautiful mouth. She tasted so blissfully sweet. And the _sounds_ she made! Morgan knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself for long if she felt _this_ good already.

But with the way Cass was moving against him, he figured that he wouldn’t have to.

He reached between them to loosen her robe sash, deliberately meeting her gaze to ensure that this was truly what she wanted. A quick nod was the only acknowledgement he needed before the silk garment joined his shirt on the floor.

“Fuck…” Morgan’s knees weakened when he realised that she was standing before him completely naked.

Much like her porcelain cheeks, Cass’ broad shoulders were dotted with constellations of freckles. The tiny patterns wove down her collarbones until they disappeared between her breasts. Morgan all but whimpered at the sight. Her full, _beautiful_ breasts. He reached out to cup them in his hands, stroking her sensitive peaks and admiring the way the flesh filled his palms so completely.

“Fuck, babe, you are gorgeous.”

She groaned and arched further into his touch. “Morgan, _please_ …”

Right on cue he switched their places, pressing Cass against the wall so that he could take advantage of the unhindered delights her body offered. He licked and sucked at her throat until Cass was clinging to him, her arms hooked around his neck. Morgan caressed his hands over her waist and hips before sinking to one knee — and taking one deliciously puckered nipple in his mouth.

The noises Cass was making now were far better than he’d ever imagined. _And he_ _’d imagined them in great detail._ He gave her breast a generous tug with his lips, laving at it before switching to the other. “That’s it, babe. Tell me how you like it.”

 _“Morgan_!” She all but thrashed against him when he slipped his free hand between her thighs.

He imparted a silent curse against her skin. Cass was as desperate for this as he was. She was so open to his caress, welcoming his stroking fingers with eager gasps, her folds _dripping_ with lust. The pang of arousal he felt in response was too strong to ignore.

She cried his name again, this time a threatening undertone to it, and Morgan quickly straightened. There was plenty of time to go slow later. The rapacious glint in Cass’ blue eyes warned him that she was beyond ready — and Morgan was silently grateful. He was in very real danger of coming far too rapidly.

Cass reached for his belt, making quick work of freeing his cock from his pants. The feeling of her hands on his twitching erection tore a groan from him. Morgan braced his hands on the wall, leaning in until his elbows were resting on either side of her face.

“Cass,” he whispered, gasping for air as she stroked him, “I… I need to be inside you. Now.”

“Good,” came the predatory reply. She hooked a leg around his hip, staring into his eyes intently. Then she punctuated the action by grinding her pelvis against his. Leaning forward, Cass nipped at his ear lobe and whispered, “Take me.”

That broke him.

Morgan practically stole the words from her lips with a kiss, stroking his tongue against hers passionately and pressing their bodies hard together. Strong hands grasped her hips and Cass followed his lead. He steadied himself and she wrapped her legs about his waist eagerly, rubbing herself against him in anticipation. He could barely think straight as it was. But the first glide of her slick skin along his length made him giddy. Morgan groaned and rested his forehead against hers.

“Oh _god_ Cass.”

His cock was throbbing _painfully_ , and they had only just begun.

Slowly _— excruciatingly_ slowly — he sank into her. Cass’ head fell back against the wall as the crown of his cock pushed inside, and in turn white heat burst behind Morgan’s eyes. She was angelic like this. Her features were contorted in rapture, lips parted around rapturous sighs, her messed hair a cascade of crimson against her flushed skin. He could get used to seeing her face framed by the pleasured glow of their coupling. He spread her knees further and pressed deeper, grunting in time with her sobs of euphoria.

Her body accepted his girth with ease, the stretch of her flesh around him sparking a thrill that coursed through both of them. Cass dug her fingernails into his shoulders as Morgan drew back, then plunged inside her again. A sharp hiss marked the effort. Truly, he didn’t care how hard she gripped him; this felt too divine to stop. The carnal sound of their lovemaking was spurring him on, each snap of his hips forward into hers punctuated by a lewd wet sound — and the cries of his lover as she begged him not to hold back.

So he didn’t.

Morgan muffled his groans against Cass’ throat. It was hardly effective, however, as they were both too far gone to be silent or even to care if anyone beyond the apartment walls could hear them. Cass had taken to chanting his name, her hands working their way into his thick silver hair and tangling at the crown of his head. The tug on his scalp only heightened Morgan’s gratification as he buried himself within her depths over and over.

Cass’ eyes squeezed shut, her features contorting as she rode the edge of bliss. “ _Yes_ , oh fuck… _yes,_ Morgan, yes!”

She bit down on the juncture of his shoulder, her free hand tugging harder at his hair. Morgan flinched at the sting but _god_ it was turning him on. Hilting his cock deep within her heat sent his mind sublimely blank. But the clench of her walls around him, and the scrape of her teeth at his throat was grounding him. Morgan let out a ragged groan. Somehow Cass’ aggression only made his blood pump harder. He drew upon that burst of adrenaline and curled his toes into the floor, ignoring the burning pain in his arms from their position. All he wanted to know in this moment was Cass, her weight against him as she clawed at his back and he, in turn, pinned her harder against the wall. Rivulets of perspiration trailed down his skin, mingling with hers. But still he didn’t stop.

“Can’t…” Morgan choked out the words, pumping harder between her legs, “Cass, I can’t hold on…”

If the strain in her voice was anything to go by, then Cass wasn’t going to last long either. “Do it… oohh _fuckyes_!”

Her body fluttered around him. Morgan gasped at the feeling it gave him, his eyes closing in awe as he too hurtled toward that abyss. There was nothing he wanted more in that moment than to tumble over the edge with her.

But he could never have anticipated the sudden cry Cass made, nor the force of her orgasm when it struck. She all but _screamed_ his name. The hand in his hair yanked so hard that Morgan’s head fell back to meet her unforgiving grip. Morgan could only hold on, digging his fingers into her hips while she bucked against him, riding out the shock waves.

He was growling urgently now as he felt that familiar burning sensation, angling her hips into that _perfect_ position. Easing her legs over his elbows, Morgan spread her body wide and thrust wildly, his pace becoming erratic in his desperate race to finish. Cass was moaning at the over-stimulation. She seemed nearly delirious coming down from her climax, holding onto him as he claimed the rest of his pleasure. Not that she was complaining. Morgan glanced up through sweat-slicked hair to see his lover’s mouth curl into a dazed smile.

She cupped his face tenderly. “Morgan. Please. I… I want to feel it…”

That was all he needed to hear.

He fell apart with a ragged whimper. Even like this, she was playing him with her touch; his body was drawn so tight he wondered if this final note would make him snap. She squeezed her inner muscles around him and Morgan _shouted_ — it felt so damned right. Now he all but collapsed against her, relishing the sheer relief his release offered him. Spurt after spurt of his seed left him drained and now, Morgan’s legs began to shake from the effort it took simply to remain standing.

His knees gave out and they sank to the floor together, weak and entangled.

For a moment Morgan simply lay there dazed. But when he felt Cass shift above him, he couldn’t help the contented sigh that escaped him. He was still buried inside her, shivering as their combined arousal trickled down his skin. And _god_ it felt incredible when she moved; his softening cock twitched and sent shocks straight up his spine.

_Fuck._

He must have said something out loud because Cass let out a quiet chuckle.

“What?” He lifted his head groggily, smiling at the beautiful woman lying on his chest.

Cass had folded her arms beneath her chin and was toying at the dark curls on his abdomen with one finger. “I just never thought you’d be so _vocal_ ,” she smirked, leaning in to give him a slow, leisurely kiss.

He smirked against her lips. “I never thought you’d let our first time be against a wall.” Then, arching one dark brow, “hell I didn’t even make it out of my pants. That’s a first.”

This made Cass laugh, the sound becoming even more delightful and rich on his tongue. They simply lay there on the carpet for a while longer and Morgan couldn’t help but wonder what deity he’d been blessed by to be here. He was sated for the moment, and wrapped in the arms of the very woman he had longed for. Just an hour earlier he had been terrified that she would reject him outright. Instead, Cassandra Davenport was lazily rolling her hips against his, stirring him back to full arousal and sighing contentedly into his mouth.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he whispered between kisses.

Cass propped her hands on either side of his face, arching up just far enough that Morgan could see her beautifully defined torso in its entirety. She visibly smirked when his eyes dilated, heard the faint moan of submission that escaped him at the sight. Oh what a wicked grin this woman possessed…

_“Good.”_

Hours later, after countless more orgasms, and a brief pause to make them both some much-needed food, Morgan found himself carrying Cass to her bed. The sun was setting beyond the skyscrapers and golden light was filtering down on them through the apartment’s tall windows. Somewhere along the line he _had_ lost his pants. Not that he cared. Because this was completely worth the aches that they would both undoubtedly have when they woke up. It was worth the months of agony, the late nights spent tossing and turning — if it meant that by trading them in, he could lie here and watch Cass sleep in his arms.

He smiled and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. How many times had he dreamed of this moment, only to wake up unsatisfied and alone?

Morgan listened to her deep rhythmic breaths and felt love bloom warm in his chest. Pressing his lips to her forehead, he knew then and there: he would do anything in his power to have this privilege every night.


End file.
